Terrible Ideas
by Fuu43
Summary: Maka goes out with the girls and things take an unexpected turn.


Terrible Ideas

Rated PG13

* * *

Maka felt pain radiate up her back and into her shoulder. She winced and shifted her weight, pulling down at the skirt that hugged her slight hips. Fingers numb, she rubbed them together and absentmindedly wondered where her gloves had gone. Her breath came out in a soft huff of white air. It was so cold it hurt to blink.

Beneath her skin she could feel the beat of music from the bar next door. They had been dancing only a few minutes ago. A well deserved night off her girlfriends had proclaimed. Now the music made her head spin. There was a cooling line of perspiration on her brow and her feet ached despite the sensible shoes she'd worn.

It was dark, but not so dark she couldn't see Soul. Under the dingy alley lights his hair gleamed like a white hot flame. She was certain it would be warm to the touch and wanted to sink her fingers knuckle deep.

She licked her lips and took a tentative step towards him, feet catching on the pavement under her. Around her the world tilted dangerously. Maka shut her eyes and swallowed back unexpected nausea.

When she was certain she wouldn't be sick, she reopened them and watched her partner. Soul's back was a straight line of barely concealed rage she couldn't remember seeing outside of battle. His hands clenched at his sides and Maka looked on in confusion.

Why were they outside again? And when had it gotten so cold?

"Soul?" She asked whisper soft.

Her throat was sore too. She'd had to yell in the club to be heard.

He turned his head towards her; his profile was harsh and unforgiving. "Stay there."

Soul's voice was quiet but still cut through the air and crawled along her skin. Maka stopped mid step and shuffled back, sagging against the nearest building. The biting cold brick burned her bare arms.

She tipped her head back and swallowed. Her eyes shut as the first snowflakes of the night caught in her bangs.

Soul cursed and the sound of flesh striking flesh filled her ears.

Her head thumped heavily against her shoulder. Maka was positive she should be mad. He couldn't talk to her like that. She wasn't some sort of dog to be ordered around. She was his partner and had been for years. Instead, she hummed and sighed and tried to keep from falling over.

"Soul?" She asked again once the commotion had stopped.

Warm fingers encircled her bare wrists and she shook at the sudden heat.

"Wa?" Maka started.

He hushed her, a low noise that she could feel more than hear.

She breathed in the scent of pine needles and cloves and slumped forward. Maka would recognize that scent anywhere. Her arms automatically snaked around his waist and her cold nose found the warm space between his shoulder and chin.

Maka struggled to get her feet under her and knocked knees with Soul instead.

"Sorry." She whispered, and clung to him more tightly. The word caught on her tongue and emerged a garbled mess.

He shushed her again, this time the words spoken gently into her hair. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his back and flexed automatically. She liked that he was stronger than he looked. Maka half sighed against his skin, absorbing the warmth eagerly, and let her hands slide down.

"Hey hey hey." He started, grabbing at her hands and pulling them away. He tucked her into his side and half carried her out of the alley. Maka stumbled with him, blindly following. Behind her she could hear someone try to get up and fail.

She blinked and hissed as the pain in her back flared.

"Ouch." Maka whined into the warm expanse of his neck.

Soul's hands tightened. Around them the world spun lazily and Maka winced at the bright lights of the street.

"Is she okay?" Black Star's voice loudly interjected. Maka kept her head buried in Soul's shoulder and tucked a hand into the warm expanse of Soul's open coat. She wondered absently if Black Star even understood the term 'inside voice'.

"No, she isn't fine." Soul barked back.

The words rattled against her chest and up into her ears. He grabbed at her hand and pulled it from his warm side. She made a noise of frustration.

"Maka?" Tsubaki asked.

Maka raised her head at her friend's voice and murmured a greeting. Why was everyone being so loud?

Tsubaki seemed to be on the other end of a tunnel, her shimmery blue dress and loose hair fuzzy far away. Next to her Black star nursed a bruise high on his cheek.

"We're leaving. Right the fuck now." Soul's words were growled.

Tsubaki said something back, but Maka tuned out the conversation, letting the words roll over her. Soul's voice continued, rumbling and blustering. Her thoughts seemed to scatter and she clung to her partner, letting him pull her along as Tsubaki's and Black Star's voices faded.

For a moment she seemed to almost sleep while standing, floating in a sea of bright lights and piano music. The notes played around her and practically shimmered behind her eyelids.

"Maka, I need you to work with me here."

"Hm?" She focused on Soul and let the music fade.

She was still tucked into Soul's side, with one of her arms thrown over his shoulder and the other dangling uselessly. Her fingers and toes were freezing. Maka lifted her head at his words, watching lethargically as he cursed and struggled to open their apartment door.

Her hair had fallen out of its loose braid and hung like a curtain over her eyes. She blew it out of the way and tried to reach out and help him jiggle the door. It stuck fiercely when it was cold out.

Maka's balance tilted strangely and Soul stumbled.

"Keep still!"

She froze at his tone, legs splayed awkwardly under her. Soul's arm was tight high across her midsection and the only thing keeping her upright.

"Soul?"

The door clicked open and he nudged it with one foot. "I swear you're like a wet noodle."

Maka said nothing but frowned at his tone as he shifted her weight and dragged them both inside. He still sounded mad.

The apartment was dark and blessedly warm. In the shadows she could see the dishes in the sink from dinner and books piled high on the coffee table from her study session.

"What's wrong?" She asked, letting her limbs fall where they may as he lowered her onto their couch.

Maka felt his hands, tentative at first, on her hips. She opened her mouth to say something about personal space, but quieted when she realized he was tugging at her skirt. It had ridden up on her hips, high enough to no longer be decent. Maka fought back a blush.

"What's wrong?" She asked again, this time into the crook of her arm.

He said nothing as he tugged off her shoes. She curled her bare toes.

"I'm cold."

"You're cold." He spoke in a disturbingly calm voice. It set off alarm bells in her head, but she was still spinning enough that she could ignore them.

She nodded and held out a hand, hoping a blanket would appear. "And my back hurts."

Warmth was draped over her legs and Maka sighed in contentment. She wiggled her toes at the heavy fabric and relaxed deeper into the couch.

The couch shifted as Soul sat next to her, perched precariously on the edge. Maka tugged at the blanket until it was high on her chest. She nestled into Soul and ignored the sharp jut of his hip bone.

He carefully brushed his hand across her forehead and slouched forward until his mouth was close enough to her ear that she could feel his hot breath. "Your back hurts? Did it hurt before the shots you did? Or was it after that jerk wouldn't leave you alone? I can't turn my back from you for a second. I'm going to tear Liz a new one the next time I see her."

She made a noise of acknowledgement and swallowed at the memory of sickly sweet alcohol. Liz and Patty had been more than just persuasive when they'd arrived at the club.

"Do you even –" He stopped. "Tomorrow we are going to talk about this. Let me see your back."

Maka frowned and shook her head. She was just finally getting warm and Soul was, despite his sharp bones, incredibly comfortable to rest against.

"Maka."

"No." She harrumphed into his side and whined audibly as he rolled her over. The blanket caught awkwardly on her legs and she kicked in irritation.

His hands found her hips and kept her still. "Don't move!"

Maka quieted at his tone. He sounded like he was about to have a heart attack.

"Just," he swallowed, "stop squirming. You're messing up your skirt again."

She brought a hand around and pulled at the fabric. It had ridden up even further this time, high enough that she was certain it looked more like a belt than an article of clothing.

Groaning in embarrassment, she fixed it as best she could.

"It's Patty's." Maka responded, feeling the need to justify the article of clothing. It was short, black, and made of some slinky material that actually flattered her nonexistent hips.

"Well, I can tell it isn't yours. I would remember it." Soul responded with a snort. "Now, stay still."

His hands gently flexed on her hips before they skimmed down over her back.

"Does it hurt here?" He asked, pressing carefully at her lower spine.

Maka shook her head. He moved his hand again and she shivered at the sensation. Soul was good with his hands. She liked to watch him when he worked on his bike or carelessly folded the laundry when she pestered him enough that he actually did it.

"Here?" He inquired, and she hissed at the sudden pain. The weight on her back immediately lifted. "Don't move."

"Soul?" His body shifted and left the couch.

Maka listened to him move through the living room and into the kitchen. He rattled around in the freezer and she let her mind buzz and meander. She didn't go out often with everyone and she drank even less.

It had been a terrible idea, she'd known that from the beginning. And now Soul would probably give her the cold shoulder for days.

"M s'rry." Maka apologized as he returned.

Cold hit her back and she yelped and tried to roll away from it. He kicked a leg over her and sat low on her hips.

"Lay still. This needs to be iced. And don't apologize when you're not even sober yet. I should have gone with."

She jerked again at the ice and shimmied in an attempt to roll out from under him.

"It's cold." Maka weakly pushed up with her hips.

"Stop it." Soul gritted out. "Of course it's cold. Just lay still for five minutes."

Maka watched him from the corner of her eye. He was still wearing his coat and his low slung jeans were warm against her sides. He had taken off his shoes at some point and the soft grey t-shirt he wore was thin and faded from too many washings.

There was a frown on his face, a deep slash of frustration she was more used to seeing pointed at Black Star or her father. She didn't like it. His eyes remained focused on her back, eyebrows furrowed.

She blinked blearily and tilted her head to the side in an effort to get more comfortable. Despite the cold on her back and Soul's weight across her hips, Maka was still fighting off sleep.

Maka floated, barely registering when Soul removed the ice, tucked the blanket around her, and picked her up.

"Hm?" She made a noise of inquiry as they traveled down the hall. Her room was dark but he traversed it easily. Her closet door was still open and one half of her bed was covered with clothing options that had been vetoed earlier.

"Bed." He whispered back and the dim light coming in her window made his teeth gleam like a shark's.

She reached eagerly for her pillow. He straightened and cracked his neck as she settled. Rubbed hesitantly at his shoulder, he leaned forward to tug her onto her side.

"You'll be sore if you sleep on your back." Soul scolded.

Maka ignored him but remained on her side; she was already more asleep than awake.

"Stay?" She slurred, reaching out blindly with one hand and grabbing at one of the loops on his jeans.

"Maka." Soul responded and she could hear the warning in his voice.

Without thought she pulled at him until he grumbled under his breath and climbed in next to her. Smoothing out the frown on his face with her fingertips, she tucked herself firmly into his chest and slept.


End file.
